Purging and Pasta Noodles
by LyraTheWriter
Summary: (Warning: Eating Disorders, serious themes.) Lovina Vargas has a problem, but it'll take awhile for her to fess up to it... along with the consequences it brings. There is friendly Hetero SpaMano, but chances are it might become more than a friendship. Fem Romano.
1. Chapter 1

_**((WARNING WARNING WARNING**_

_** This fanfic is not for the faint of heart. There will be full details of eating-disordered behaviours.**_

_** I made this fanfic partially because I'm going through an ED relapse, and writing this will help me cope with it a little more than usual.**_

_** And... I was trying to find an ED fanfic for Fem!Romano, and since I couldn't find one... Well...Greetings.**_

_** You have been warned.))**_

I gritted my teeth, head resting on my open locker door. Goddammit, school is the worst place to feel like fainting. But I have... what? Only one period left. Italian. Easy peesy. Taking a deep breath, I closed my locker, and casually strolled to my last period class, even though the bell rang a minute ago. Meh, Miss Braginska was pretty easygoing in terms of being on-time to class. If I had to give an excuse for my occasional late-ness, I could make up some bullshit about being on my period. I haven't had my period for three months, but who was checking?

I walked into class, and just as expected, it was too noisy for anyone to notice me coming in. Well, except for Miss Braginska. She was writing down the notes for the class, and she looked up at me with a smile, her headband slightly crooked on her short hair.

"Bonjourno, Lovina~!" Even if she was Ukrainian, and her English had a heavy accent, her Italian was always perfect, spot on. And she was a great teacher too, it's just that... She was too nice. And too sensitive. Like, who in their right minds lets a nasty-tempered, loud-mouthed Italian like me be late to class every now and then?

"Bonjourno..." I walked over to my seat, and the class droned on. I couldn't pay attention very well; I was dizzy. But hey, at least the lesson was on simple conversational Italian. Easy stuff. Feliciana, Grandpa, and I always spoke in our language on a daily basis. I let my mind wander a bit. Soon enough, the bell rang, it was time to walk home.

((TIME SKIP))  
>"Lovi, do you want to hang out somewhere after school today?" My best guy buddy, Antonio, was walking with me as I was walking home. Stopping, I turned around to face him, and I asked him what he had in mind.<p>

"Well," he winked at me teasingly, dark green eyes twinkling, "How about going out for pizza together? It's been awhile-"

"No thanks. I got important stuff to do, anyways." I interrupted him, but he never gets offended when I do. I tried walking faster, but he was keeping up with me.

"C'mon, why not? I thought you loved pizza!" He pouted, a strand of his dark brown hair falling in front of his face. His expression quickly turned into a mischievous grin. And his next sentence made my blood run cold. "Are you on a _diet?"_

I know he doesn't know any better. He's naive, and he doesn't know about anything that I do. Still, I cringed when I heard him say the "d" word. But even so, I had to play along with his joke, just in case. I laughed as loud as I could, even slapping my knees. "_Me_, on a _diet_? You gotta be kidding me! I couldn't even live without pasta for a day!" Ha, yes I could. I could even live without food for a day. I haven't eaten for 5 days. But who'd believe that?

"Haha, I was just joking with you, Lovi. So... Sunday?" Well, looks like I couldn't escape it. Ugh, bread is such a bastarda to purge. Besides, I couldn't say no to his face even if I wanted to. His pleading face is impossible to say no to. Or maybe I was just too weak. I nodded, and we ended up just having our usual conversations of normal, teen crap.

When I got home, I was surprised to see Grandpa. Usually he was home later on Fridays. Well.

"Lovina~" He hugged me tightly. I wasn't as enthusiastic, so I just patted his back. Pulling back, he happily said, "I made your favourite linguini!" God damn it, why do things like this have to happen all the time? Ugh.

"Oh... Grazie." I made a small smile. "I'll bring some to my room. I got some stuff to do."

"Okay, but be sure to tell me how it is later on~!" He turned on the television, onto some Italian soap opera channel. He's a sucker for these types of shows, I swear to god.

Walking into the kitchen, I took a big bowl, and filled it as much as I could with the noodles. I could tell Grandpa put a lot of olive oil on them; they were super shiny. Ugh. Thank god I was taking this up to my room.

Going up the stairs, and into my room, I immediately dumped the noodles into the small trash can I had in the corner. No way in hell was I eating that bowl. I felt slightly guilty about throwing such good-quality food out, but I didn't feel bad enough to suffer the consequence of eating such an oily food- weight gain. Opening my closet, I found the saviour that I was looking forward to today. A big bottle of diet soda. Ah, yes.

20 minutes later, I was cradling the empty 2L bottle in my arms, along with a book, thinking aloud, softly.

"No way do I have an eating disorder. Girls with eating disorders have enough control to not drink a whole bottle of DIET soda, right? Besides, I'm still too big anyways."

Yeah, I may have been at a healthy weight now, but I didn't think of all the shit that would come from it eventually.


	2. Chapter 2-ED Nightmares

_ The tastes of garlic and meat flooded my mouth, the spicy scents were almost overwhelming my nostrils, as I was slurping down greasy Italian noodles; vanilla and chocolate cream was almost overfilling the capacity that my mouth could hold as I bit into cannolis; the oils from melted smooth Parmesan cheese almost dribbled down my chin as I ate it with a spoon; it was just food. Food was FUCKING EVERYWHERE._

_ And I was just eating, and eating, and eating, and eating. I couldn't stop it. My stomach was stretching. I couldn't take it anymore-_

**BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP  
><strong> I shot up in bed, fucking scared as hell, shaking like crazy. Did I really eat all that? Where were all the calories going to end up? Why would I do such a thing-

**GROWL...** My stomach made a grumbling sound. It was empty. Today was Day 6 of my fast.

Oh. Oh. It was just a dream. I sighed with relief, but was still shaking a little. I felt something wet drip onto my chest. I didn't realize I was crying. Then the droplets got bigger. And I was making chocking, sobbing noises. I couldn't stop it. And my door opened, revealing my younger sister, Feliciana.

"What's wrong, Lovi?" She whispered, rubbing her eyes. I shook my head.

"Go back to bed, Feli. We have no school today. I was a dumbass and had the alarm on." She didn't budge. "Goddammit Feli, just go!" She hesitated, but went out and closed the door. I sighed, running my fingers through my long, messy, wavy dark hair. Thankfully, it doesn't look like it's going to thin out and fall anytime soon.

Looking at my closet, I realized I hadn't weighed myself since I started the fast. I wondered how much I had lost. I opened my closet, and fished around for the scale. Eventually I found it, all in one piece. Setting it on the floor, I stepped on it, then stepped off when the screen flashed, because it was an electric scale. I then stepped on again. The screen flashed again, this time showing my weight.

_130.6._ I had lost 7 lbs. My hard work was paying off. Thank god. I turned around to put it back into my closet, but.

My door was open. Feli was holding two mugs of what was probably_ hot ciocalata,_ and her eyes were wide, her mouth was dropped. She looked like a dead fish at the fish market. I was stopped dead in my tracks. I didn't know what to say. How much did she see?

_** "Lovina?"**_

((Cliffhanger.

I don't know if this happens to other people with eating disorders, but sometimes I'll get nightmares where I'm binging... and binging... and binging... and I wake up in a cold sweat and I'm crying; it happens if I try to fast, especially for long time periods.

I don't know what type of eating disorder Lovina has yet.

I have ideas for the next chappie.

Until next time...))


	3. Chapter 3-Sister Talks

_**Chappie 3- Sister Talk**_

Man, this was awkward.

"Ve~ Lovina, what're you using a scale for?" Feliciana set the mugs onto my desk, and looked at me, tilting her head, and scratching it in a curious type pose. A wave of relief came over me, because I realized that I'm still too fat to have an eating disorder*. I could easily bullshit my way through this.

"Ah Feli, I'm trying to be healthier, and weighing myself every now and then is part of the whole shit of being healthy, you know?" I faked a smile, saying all of my crap with a straight face. She seemed to buy it... sort of. Next thing I know, she was curious enough to weigh herself. "You don't need to weigh yourself; you don't need to worry about health and stuff like I do," I muttered, peeking over her shoulder.

"Ve~ Is 115 pounds too much?" My eyes widened at hearing my goal weight. Feli was slightly shorter than me, but she was thin; in fact, she was one of my top thinspirations. So to hear her worry about her size made me fearful.

"No no no Feli, 115 is perfecto for you! You look beautiful at your weight. I weigh even more than you do, and I'm not fat... at least, I don't think so." I tried to laugh. "C'mon, a number is a number. There are other ways to see if you're healthy." I put my scale away, back into my closet as I kept my voice steady. And the good news is, Feliciana acted as if nothing had ever happened.

"Okie dokie Lovi! Sakura ((fem Japan)) gave me these CDs for this anime called Junjou Romantica~ Let's go and watch it and drink some hot ciocalata!" I facepalmed as she cheerfully said the name of the yaoi.

"Feli..."

"Si?"  
>"Junjou Romantica is a yaoi."<p>

"Yay! That's even better!"

Rolling my eyes, I took the mug and followed her down the hallway to her room, stopping only to dump some of the ciocalata in the sink, making sure it didn't leave a chocolate mark. I'm thankful that Feli is a bit of an airhead. It makes these things so much easier to get away with. I tried to think of how that yummy, smooth chocolate didn't end up as fatty pockets on my hips, instead of feeling guilty for not drinking it.

((TIME SKIP))

*TOMATO TOMATO TOMATO* My phone started to ring in the middle of a hot moment in Junjou Romantica, and Feli and I made a pouting face. Misaki was making the hottest moaning uke face, for crying aloud! I opened the phone.

"WHO THE FUCK"  
>"Hey Lovi~!"<p>

Oh shit. I forgot. Today was the weekend. Antonio wanted to take me out to pizza. Great.

"Tony, I was just watching the greatest yaoi ever, and now-"

"Yeah yeah, but I bet you nothing's going to beat hanging out with your buddy _Tony_ at your favourite pizza place!"

I sarcastically replied, "Yeah, sure, I'll see you there in 20 minutes."

Feli was preoccupied with the yaoi, so she didn't notice as I forced myself down to the kitchen to chug as much water as I could before heading out.

((This was an okay chappie.

*A person is never "too fat" to have an eating disorder. An obese person can have anorexic behaviours. An overweight girl can be bulimic. Healthy weighted individuals can start having restrictive behaviors. Likewise, there are also underweight individuals with Binge eating disorder. People with EDs come in all sizes and shapes.

Next chappie is most likely a trigger warning, because chances are, Lovina is going to purge. And it's gonna be graphic.))


	4. Chapter 4-Purging

_**Chapter 4- Purging**_

((Warning, this may be triggering for some, due to the fact that there's detail on self-induced vomiting. You have been warned. Don't go complaining to me, because I have warned you.))

_Glug._ _Glug. Glug._ Come on, one more motherfucking liter... I kept on chugging the clear liquid down. The meniscus of the water went lower and lower as I forced it down my throat, swallowing gigantic mouthfuls, trying not to think. I gave a loud "Ahh" of relief when I was done. 3 liters of water was enough in case I couldn't get away with not eating anything, right? Besides, I'd probably chug some mineral water or something at the pizzeria, anyways. Looking at the mirror, I noticed how all that water made me look slightly bloated. Fuck it, it'd be out of my system in less than 2 hours time. Saying goodbye to Feli, I walked out the door, where Antonio was waiting outside my doorstep, completely oblivious to all these messed-up thoughts in my mind.

"Okay Lovi, vamonos, let's go~!" I smacked him playfully, and we ended up chasing each other towards the pizzeria.

((TIME SKIP))

It was only about a 10 minute walk to the local pizzeria. The thing about the pizzeria was that it wasn't special because of the food. Far from it. (Even though they had some pretty amazing things that I loved before I became eating-disordered.) It was special because of nostalgia. Tony and I came here together ever since we were little kids, so we have a lot of memories in this small space of wooden booths and dim, rosy coloured lights. The boss of this place (Antonio's aunt, Michelle) decided that it'd be a good idea to include paintings of anything and everything of the sea on the walls, so you end up feeling like you're in a calm ocean.

Or in my case, a sea of turmoil. We were finally seated in a booth, and I had to face the truth. I don't want to eat pizza. Don't want. Don't want don't want don't want don't want-

"Hey, Toni..." I mumbled, looking at the choices on the menu.

"Yeah?" He looked up at me. "I'll let you have anchovies if you really want them." Oh yeah. I used to fucking love anchovies on pizza. Now I don't eat the fish because of the salt content. Sodium doesn't make you gain weight, it's just that... It makes you look bloated.

"Bastardo, it's not about some fish topping. It's just that I don't really want pizza. I think we should try something... Different."

"Well, what were you thinking on?"

All I could find on the menu was pizza, calzones, desserts, and pasta. So I quickly tried to think about my options. Desserts are usually easy to purge, but let's be real here- normal people usually don't order only dessert at a restaurant, so that's out. Calzones were out of the question- bread is so damn hard to throw up, I might as well choke down cardboard and try puking THAT up. Yuck. Not to mention that there's spicy pepperoni to think about, and that tastes awful coming back up. That left pasta.

"Hey, I was thinking on sharing some pasta. The noodle-y kind, because it's fun to get the slurp-y kind of pasta." Pasta was definitely better than pizza to purge. But it had to be noodles, like spaghetti, or angel hair. Otherwise it was a nightmare.

"Spaghetti bolognese sound good?" Spaghetti, meat sauce, cheese, vegetables. I replied by saying that it was a perfect choice. As we talked, I managed to drink a few glasses of water. Eventually, we got our order. Steam rose from a bright, large blue plate. In it, was a giant bed of pasta noodles drowned in meaty, oniony, tomato sauce. The smell of it traveled to my nose, and no matter how hard I tried to ignore it, I couldn't help but think that it was, and smelled, delicious. I lifted my fork, and twirled it into the noodles, and took a big bite. I heard Antonio laugh.

"You still have your massive appetite, Lovi!" He smiled. I knew he was probably joking, but I felt waves of shame travel through me. I raised my napkin to my mouth and silently spitted as much out as I could. My stomach was churning even harder, and I couldn't help but feel tears go up into my eyes. All for one fucking comment.

Unfortunately, he looked back at me once he stopped laughing, and that was just when I spit the pasta into the napkin.

"Hey, Lovi, was the pasta no good?" I didn't reply. My stomach churned even harder. Tears were _this close_ to pouring out of my eyes.

"Lovi, are you okay?" He leaned in towards me, and then the most embarrassing thing happened.

"BLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I threw up. And not just any normal vomit. It was water. I was getting water, everywhere. Why did this have to happen? I didn't even stick my fingers down my throat, goddamit! Antonio gave me a surprised expression, and I could only feel complete shame. Before I could think properly, I was running home. Away from the restaurant, away from Toni.

When I got home, I expected Feliciana to come and help me out or something... But instead, I got this:

_Hey Lovina!_

_ I just wrote this note to tell you and Grandpa that imma be _

_ sleeping over at Monika's house tonight! _

_ So don't worry about me :D_

_ Ciao~!_

Feli was gone. Grandpa was away at work until later, in the evening. And I was left alone in this house. It was inevitable. I was going to end up eating and purging. I looked at what we had in the cupboards, fridge, and freezer, took a gallon-filled water bottle, and the rest was a blur.

I remember eating a whole gallon of cappuccino-flavored gelato hidden in the back of the freezer; a whole jar of hazelnut spread; a tub of hummus; a jar of peanut butter; some cake that Feli made for me two days ago; a cannoli; a bag of cheese puffs; some pasta noodles; and as much cheese as I could fit into a bowl, microwaved until it was all gooey. I probably ate more, but I don't remember what else I ate. I just remember eating, eating, eating, and not stopping even after I was not hungry anymore, because I wanted to just EAT. Good thing I drank a whole gallon of water, but...

I was oh-so-full. I could barely breathe. My stomach was stretching over my pants, and all I could think about were the calories I just stuck down my throat. That whole jar of hazelnut spread **alone** was over 4,000 calories. Oh my god. OH MY GOD.

I ran to the bathroom, only to see how gross, how DISGUSTING the girl in the mirror was. Her face had stains of ice cream on her cheeks, oil from the cheese on her shirt, and brown hazelnut spread sticking to her teeth. Her belly was swollen like a pig's. She looked like a pregnant cow. And that was about to change in the next half-hour or so.

I pulled my hair back into a tight ponytail, and flipped the toilet seat up. I straddled a bit, and used one hand to support myself by holding on the the toilet seat. With my other hand, I held three fingers up, keeping my pinky and thumb down. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath...

And plunged my fingers as far as they could go. I forced them down, and food immediately exploded, up through my esophagus, out of my mouth, some of it going out so forcefully it splashed onto the floor next to me. I'd clean it up later. For now, it was all about forcing everything up. I knew that peanut butter and hazelnut spread were very hard to get up.

"Hcck... BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBLLLLLLLEHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" A few globs came out. I forced my fingers harder, also hitting the sides of the back of my throat. I hadn't purged for awhile, so my gag reflex was functioning better than usual. I kept on going. I had to get everything out. Everything.

I was abusing my throat until all that came out was bile. Pure, acidic hydrochloric acid. The sign that I truly got everything. My throat burned, but I didn't care. After cleaning the bathroom, I dragged myself to the scale to weigh myself. I had to see all the damage done.

_ 129.8._ Ha, if the scale said I lost, it was because of water weight. Still, better this than to gain. I dragged myself to the kitchen, and made myself a cup of laxative tea.

_I would never admit it, but binge/purge sessions always make me feel calm afterwards._

((Well. That's chappie 4...

My important test is either on the 25th/26th of October, which means that updates are gonna be HELLA SLOW!

So please, bear with me _

-LyraTheWriter))


	5. Chapter 5-Reflections

_**Chappie 5- Reflections**_

I drink a cup of laxative tea to help wash down the bottle of milk of magnesia laxative I just drank- the irony of it almost sickens me. And I try to think back on how this stupid thing with food all started.

I was the heavy sister- I wasn't obese, but I definitely couldn't classify as skinny whatsoever. And when puberty came, I basically looked like one of those taro mochi dumplings Sakura ate all the time. I was a heavy water balloon. While Feliciana was lean, cheerful, with a small frame, and nice boobs, I was fat, nasty. Not to mention that there are all those stereotypes about fat people being lazy-asses and all that other bullshit. Which isn't fucking true, by the way. And then there were the people who said certain things.

"Lovina, no offense, buuuuut... you really think you should wear short skirts? Your legs are _un peu trop gras_ to pull that off." Francis, a classmate, once commented to me in 7th grade. I then wore longer skirts to hide my fat legs. After all, he used to be from France- he knew what he was talking about.

"Lovi, you wanna try running a couple miles a week? It helps the legs tone up~!" Feli innocently asked me one afternoon. Even though she meant no harm, I knew fully well we weren't going to be running for fun. She couldn't even run to save her life, poor girl.

"Lovina, why not try wearing a tummy trimmer to make you look a size smaller?" My friend, Madeline, suggested, when we were shopping at a mall together.

It all just snapped for me one day when Grandpa yelled at me. Grandpa usually never yells, but even if he did, I never would've forgotten what he said that Friday, just a couple of months ago, during a pasta dinner, when I was upset over some stupid teen-problem.

"Lovina, get your act together. You have to drop some weight! Lay off the pasta for a bit! NO BOY IS EVER GOING TO NOTICE AND LOVE YOU. YOU LOOK LIKE ONE OF THOSE PIGS I FED AS A BOY WORKING ON A FARM! LOOK AT Feli!" He pointed to my frightened sister. "LOOK AT HOW SKINNY SHE IS! WHY CAN'T YOU LOOK LIKE HER? HUH?! You're going to have DIABETES and HEART PROBLEMS before you turn 30 if you DON'T CHANGE."

I cried. And I cried and cried. He didn't know that I tried every diet in the book, he didn't know that I hated how my body looked. I weighed myself immediately after he yelled at me, and the scale flashed an ugly number.

170 pounds. I was gross. Ugly. A blob. I locked myself in my room from that Friday evening to Monday morning. Feli pounded her fists on my door, begging to let her in. Grandpa was trying to apologize for what he said. He cried that he yelled all of what he said on impulse; he didn't mean it. If he didn't, then why did the words fly out of his mouth? Of course he meant what he said! I was curled into a ball. I didn't eat. I had a few water bottles in my room, so I drank when I was thirsty. When I did come out of my room, the first thing I did was weigh myself.

164.6 lbs. And then, something weird happened to my mind at seeing the lower numbers. My mind thought:

_I just have to not eat, and I'll lose weight. That's it. That's all I have to do._

And so, I made it look like I was trying to diet like a normal person, but in reality, I skipped meals, I tried swimming to burn some extra calories, and when I did have to eat, I had to burn the calories afterward. I quickly lost 25 lbs. But no person can stick to a diet forever. And that's when the binges started.

My first "binge" wasn't really even that big of a deal. Basically, Antonio and I were at a mall together with some of his so-called "Bad Touch Trio" buddies, because Francis was with Alice, and Gilbert was with Elizaveta; so I had to tag along, because the bastardo wanted to bring me with him. We were wandering around the mall, when we come across a frozen yogurt place that just opened, and they were giving an eating contest.

"Eat a whole gallon against five other people in any flavour! If you win, you get a gift card of 30 bucks, and it never expires~ Plus we donate 20 bucks to feed the hungry in Belgium, my home country! If you lose, you need to pay us 20 bucks! Who's up?!" Her green eyes scanned the people in our group, and the next thing I know, Gilbert pushes me towards her, and everything goes by too quickly for me to argue.

Moments later, I'm stumbling out of the place in pain, holding a thirty dollar gift card, and cursing under my breath. Cotton candy ice cream really stops tasting good after a half gallon.

"BASTARDOS, I'm heading to the bathroom," I march to the nearest place with a toilet, and fortunately I get into a stall right away.

I didn't think about my next actions; I read enough about bulimia to know how to vomit, and I knew that ice cream was probably the easiest thing to throw up. And they were right. A blue mess immediately shot into the seat, and I tasted bile in less than a few minutes. As a bonus, the carrots I ate that morning also went in the toilet. I sighed with relief.

Once I knew how to throw up, I used it when I needed to. At a party? Vomit in the bathroom. At school? Use the bathroom that nobody uses. In public? That's fine, just say you're pregnant. The list goes on and on.

It's been a little over a year since I was a fat blob, but even though I'm smaller now, I still see things that need more working on. My hips are wide enough to have a gap between my thighs, so clearly I'm not very lean if they still rub when I walk. My stomach doesn't have much abdominal definition. And my boobs, my FUCKING BOOBS barely got smaller. I literally have these stupid fat blobs on my chest. I hate it.

And then I cry, because I can't see all the progress that I've gone through. I don't see a girl who's lost about 40 lbs. I see a girl who's fucked up in the head.

I take a bottle of laxative pills, and swallow 10, all at once.  
>It helps me feel better.<p>

((Thanks for reviewing this story :,D It's definitely helping me cope with my EDNOS.

I dunno what sort of ED Lovina has yet, but we'll see...

-LyraTheWriter))


	6. Chapter 6-Suspicions

_**Chappie 6-**_** Suspicion**

I hear a knock on the door. It's 8PM. Ah, fuck it. A late night-knocking never bothered me anyways. Rolling out of bed, I head to the front door, and open it.

Antonio's holding a fucking bouquet of flowers; TIGER LILIES. The bastardo got my favourite kind. He was also holding a bag of what smelled like Italian food, and another bag with god-knows-what. I looked at him, dumbstruck.

"Tony, what's the meaning of this?"  
>"I feel bad for what happened earlier. Honestly, you should've just said you weren't feeling well..."<br>I sighed. "Come in, let's talk. Grandpa won't be home until later on, and Feli is at a sleepover. You want some coffee?"

Moments later, we're in the living room; the fiery orange lilies are put in this blue glass vase that was empty of the flowers otherwise. And Tony is just staring at me as I move around, preparing some tea he wanted, putting the flowers in the vase. I know that an old t-shirt and some baggy shorts aren't exactly the best things to wear mid-March, but I can wear whatever the fuck I want in my own home. I have no energy to snap at him because all my energy was used in my previous purge, so I can only groggily ask, "Why're you looking at me like that?"

"I remember getting that shirt for you in December."

I looked down at it. It was a soccer jersey with butterfly designs on it. Rooting for Italia. I shrugged. "It's a pretty shirt."

"It's gotten really loose on you."

"Well, you know, I grew-" He interrupted me before I could say some bullshit.

"Are you eating properly?" He was looking down at his hands, which were folded in his lap. This bastardo was acting weird and I didn't like it.

"Yes, Toni. You're just not used to me being lighter."

"That's exactly what my mama said." I felt cold. Tony never talked about his mother. It was private. She was dead, but I never knew why. I was silent. And he started talking.

"My mama was once kind of chubby, then she was throwing up all the time. She always said she was just having some stomach issues. Then she wasn't eating, and then she eventually died from not eating enough. I don't want that to happen to you." I heard his voice crack. Was he crying? I stroked his hair, and gave him a hug.

"C'mon, I'm not stick-thin, so don't worry."

"Can you eat this, then?" He pulled out the container inside the bag which smelled like Italian food. He opened it, and inside was a giant pistachio Tartuffo. My favourite dessert... Pre-ed. I gasped.

"Thanks, I'll eat some tomorrow."

"Nope, you're eating it. In front of me. Now."

"Tony, my tummy still hurts."

He sighed. "Fine. I'll go, but tell me how it is." Smiling, he waved goodbye and left. I threw the Tartuffo out in the trash can, pouring mustard on it.

In the other bag Tony had, was a bottle of Pepto-Bismol. Honestly, why does this idiota have to be so damn thoughtful?! He nearly figured out I have an eating disorder!

That was close.


	7. Chapter 7-Consequences

_**Chappie 7- Consequences**_

_ It's never enough._

I smile bitterly when I see the number on the scale.

_115._

Yeah, I gained weight, I lost weight with weird binge/purge/fast phases. It took me half a year to get here.

I look in the mirror.

My eyes have bags underneath them. I put on some concealer to erase the look, adding some light pink eyeshadow to make it look like I'm a normal person. My face is pale; I add blush to my cheeks, neck, and forehead. My hair, once shiny, is now dulling out, and I have to be careful to not brush it too hard; hair is already falling out of my head.

I remind myself that I'm at my goal weight; that this is the consequence to getting to where I wanted to be in the end.

My lackluster eyes stare back at me as I remind myself of how far I've gone, and I drag myself to my room, making sure Feli or Grandpa doesn't see me in my nightgown. Feli was getting suspicious that I was getting "bony." Sad thing is, she's right. I layer on a few tanktops, then a tee-shirt, and finally a long sleeve and a jacket over my thinner frame. It doesn't help that I grew 2 inches; I'm now 5'8, taller than Feli.

I then put on a few pairs of leggings before sliding on some sweatpants. I'm so happy it's November so that I don't look weird for all these layers. I'm always so cold.

* * *

><p>"Lovina, are you feeling okay?" A close friend of mine, Madeline, shakes my shoulder. "You seem out of it."<br>"Y-yeah, I'm okay. Just a little tired." I smile, trying to hide the fact that I was spacing out.

"You're not looking too good, just saying..."  
>"I'm fine."<br>"B-but..."  
>"I'm FINE."<p>

I nearly collapse on the way to my locker.


	8. Chapter 8-Tears

_**Chapter 8- Tears**_

I swear, I should've eaten lunch today. I should've eaten a whole bowl of greasy, oily, cheesy linguini drenched in meaty tomato sauce.

But I would've ended up purging it up anyways, so does it really matter?

I don't know. All I remember is that I was just getting back to class, and I ran into Tony in the hallway, and he stopped to talk to me.

He said that he was starting to get worried about me. Started saying weird things, like I was "dying," or something.

What? I'm not dying. But I have no time to speak, because I feel dizzy. I'm seeing three of Tony. He's yelling. I can't really hear him.

I start to fall to the ground, and he catches me, slowly sitting on the blue tiled floor, laying my head on top of his lap. It's nice.

He's saying something to me, but I can't really make it out.

He kisses me on the lips, and I can feel tears on my cheeks. It's really warm.

They're not mine. But I end up blacking out.

Life is all blurring around me, and I don't know what to make of it. I'm in an ambulance. I see people in masks. Doctors, nurses?

I don't know. I'm just really, really tired. And cold.

Tony is holding my hand the entire time, and he's crying. What's he crying about? I don't understand.

"I feel really really sleepy..." I tell him.

"Lovina Vargas, you're NOT going to do this to me." He's squeezing my hands. They're really warm...

"I'm just so... tired." My eyelids are drooping. Why is it so chilly in here?

"Lovi, no! I'm not losing you t-too..." I try to wipe the tears out of his eyes, but I'm too weak to.

"Stupido, what're you crying about..." I don't know why, but tears are running down my cheeks, too.

I have no more energy left; I feel so... done. I can't stop myself. My eyelids are starting to flutter.

I can't hear Antonio, he looks like he's yelling.

"Yeah, yeah, bastardo, I love you too..." I mutter, and I use the last of my energy to touch my head to his.

But I barely hear the sound of my head hitting against the pillow, or this weird "BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP" on this monitor beside me.

I'm finished.

I am another fallen victim.

((Was it bad to say that I had planned for Lovi to die since the beginning?

Bulimia, EDNOS, Anorexia, Binge Eating Disorder...

They're not a joke. And I wrote this to prove that. So before you yell at me to revive Lovina, I will tell you that her death is to make a point.

She started at a high weight, but ended up dying eventually.

Don't judge a chick if she says she has an eating disorder and she doesn't "look like it".

This finishes my fic, and thanks for you peeps that followed it to the very end.

I have another fic called "Un Petit Baguette" that has Fem France and her Bulimia struggles if you're interested.

Rant over. If you need to talk to me about ED struggles, I'm always here.

-LyraTheWriter))


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